Hot Excerpt: Driven to Love by Pat Dale

Previously published as Goldie’s Bear

Night after night, Lucy yearns for her fabled fairy prince to rescue her. Thom Hill arrives, acting more like an ugly frog than the princely character in Lucy’s dreams. But who knows the magic in a simple kiss? If you knew a handsome hunk of a man was only a kiss away, would you do it? Would you kiss a frog?

Lucy did and Driven to Love tells you what she got for her effort. In a classic case of the irresistible force meeting an immovable object, Lucy Fox zeroes in on her hero and lets nothing deter her. Thom Hill is drawn into a sizzling romantic battle with the blonde dynamo, resulting in an affair that’s not too hot and not too cool, but just right.

Excerpt:

Chapter One

After the argument with her dad, Lucy sulked on the porch until the driving school sedan pulled up. The man her father had arranged to be her driving instructor climbed out of the car as she approached the vehicle—and stopped in her tracks.

The most gorgeous man she’d ever seen stared at her, causing her breath to catch in her throat. Whatever she’d expected him to be, it wasn’t this. Young. Tall. Drop-dead handsome. Seriously under-challenged hormones kicked her insides with a bang.

He looked athletic but not football hefty. More likely a runner, lanky and lean, though not skinny, arms well tanned and nicely muscled. Dark brown hair, neatly cut, framed an oval face equally tanned. With character lines hinting at maturity, his face was highlighted by a straight nose matching a strong chin.

And those eyes! Huge. Jade green. Smiling. Wake up Lucy. This is not a dream, just your dream man. His wonderfully expressive lips were moving....

“Hello,” Dream Man’s voice rumbled. “Is this the Fox residence?”

Dream Man can talk. Nice voice. Lucy pried her tongue loose and stuttered, “Yes, we’re the Foxes.”

“I’m Mr. Hill. I believe your sister is supposed to learn to drive today.”

“My sister?” All feelings of lust stalled. “No, she already knows how to drive.”

“She does? There must be some mistake.”

The reality of the situation hit Lucy like a dash of cold water. “No, Mr. Hill, there’s no mistake. I’m the one who needs her license.”

“Oh. Then you must be Lucy.” His face colored as he said, “I’m sorry.”

“So am I.”

“I meant....” he mumbled haltingly, “…I’d assumed you’d be younger.”

Lucy broke the tension by laughing softly. “Mr. Hill, really, I understand. You no doubt expected another giggly teenager.”

“Yeah.” A gorgeous smile broke through the clouds of his facial muscles. Her lusty inklings resumed as he closed the clipboard he’d been carrying and said, “Well, then, we’d best get started. Come on and buckle in.”

She forced her attention away from his kissable lips. Why am I thinking about his lips? “You want me to drive? Now?”

“Sure. Why?”

“I thought you’d drive first, you know, to demonstrate what you want me to do.”

“No need for that, Miss Fox. It is Miss, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I’m single. Well, if you say so.”

“I do.” His smile sent her heart fluttering again.

She got in, adjusted the driver’s seat, and fastened her seat belt. When he was buckled in, she keyed the ignition, dropped the transmission lever into drive, and tapped the accelerator. The car moved smartly forward a short distance until a little dog ran out in front of them. She yanked the steering wheel to the right. The auto, obedient and responsive, went right—right over the curb into the flowers and the mailbox.

“See why I need help?” She turned to face the startled man beside her.

“Help?” he muttered. “You need an overhaul. Why didn’t you hit the brake?”

“The brake? Oh! I didn’t think....”

He unbuckled and climbed out of the no longer pristine sedan. After surveying the damage he stared in at her. “Well, it doesn’t look quite so bad from out here. Would you like to get out and see what you’ve done, Miss Fox?”

“I don’t need to get out. I can see it from in here.”

“The mailbox, yes. But if you’re going to extricate the car from the flowerbed, you’ll want to take a look at where the wheels are sitting at the moment.” He added, “Unless you’d rather I do it.”

“Oh, no. If I’m going to have to drive one of these things, I’ll need the experience, I’m sure.”

“I hope this isn’t the kind of experience you’re likely to repeat. Destroying mailboxes is a federal offense.”

“I didn’t destroy the mailbox, Mr. Hill. I can see it perfectly well, sitting right there on the hood. Besides, you grabbed the wheel and tried to turn it.” He bristled.

It had happened so quickly—first the dog running in front of the car and the way she’d spun the wheel to miss it. Then they were aiming at her neighbor’s streetside flowerbed. When she froze despite his barked order to brake, he’d tried a desperate move, one that had almost worked. She couldn’t fault him for that, could she?

“Whoever heard of putting a mailbox in a flowerbed, anyway?” she asked.

“The more appropriate question, Miss Fox, is whoever heard of putting a car in a flowerbed?” 

Copyright (C) 2012 Pat Dale

 

Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/254418

Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00A6IXJOK/
 

Hot Excerpt: One More Tomorrow by Shirley Martin

Destined to live in darkness, Galan must defeat the evil Moloch to regain mortality and win the love of the mortal woman, Stephanie.  

"An intriguing tale of two lovers destined to be together." ~ Romantic Times 
 

"ONE MORE TOMORROW is a wonderful vampire romance. Martin has done a truly outstanding job of showing the tormented life of a vampire through her character of Galan. I also love the abilities she has bestowed on her vampires, they can enter any door without being invited, they can transport themselves anywhere, to any time period in which they lived and they have amazing strength. The characters are realistically portrayed, the story line is enthralling and the love between the two characters gives us all hope of a soul mate. I highly recommend ONE MORE TOMORROW to all lovers of romance."  ~ 5 Stars, C. Gruver, Amazon Reader 

"Vampire romance fans will not want to miss the delightful ONE MORE TOMORROW, a fine tale starring two star-crossed lovers and the evil that shadows their every step. Galen is an admirable soul who drinks blood from only criminals while Stevie is a courageous person wondering if she truly loves the vampire. Although Moloch seems too intelligent and malevolent not to recognize the essential goodness of his apprentice (one can soundly counter argue that it goes against his blood to believe a vampire would love instead of hunt a human), readers will want more tales like this strong love story." ~ 5 Stars, Harriet Klausner. #1 Amazon Hall of Fame Reviewer

"This book was well written and had some action as well as a villain that made you want to pull the covers over your head. The plot was very well thought out with some really great insight into each character's feelings. Ms. Martin has written an enchanting book with the charm of a fairy tale and an ending of pure gold. This Reviewer gives this great read a Five Angel rating." ~ 5 Stars,  Alma Crockett 

"One of my favorite themes is the enduring power of love beyond time. As such, I eagerly took up ONE MORE TOMORROW and instantly fell in love. It is a deeply satisfying story that resonates on many levels, as well as a surprisingly sweet romance set within the oftentimes-brutal world of vampirism. While Stevie was a fun character, I connected most deeply with Galan. I felt his tormented hopes and fractured sacrifices as though they were my own. Each time Galan was forced to reject his love, his heart, his dreams, I would wail my distress. And yet, each time dear, dedicated, and eternally loving Galan would return to Stevie, drawn to the love of his life like the moth to the flame. It's an enchanting read." 4 Stars, Brenda Thatcher, Owner www.mystiquebooks.com

Excerpt:

 Hastings 

October, 1066 

"Galan!”

The English soldier tried to lift his head, but pain immobilized him. Darkness surrounded him, the smell of wet grass, blood, and death thickening the air. His iron helmet lay at his side, as lifeless as he soon would be. Spears and javelins, studded maces, and daggers littered the ravaged meadow, scattered among his dead and dying comrades.

"Galan!”

Who was calling him--the Angel of Death? Or did he only imagine the voice?

The soldier moaned. He lay in a pool of blood, a Norman arrow piercing his gut. Oh, God, the pain. His whole world was burning, stabbing, neverending agony.

The arrow. Get the arrow. Gritting his teeth, he grasped the arrow with trembling fingers and yanked.

"Ahhh!”

Delirious with pain, he sank back onto the ground, digging his fingers into the blood-soaked earth. The shaft remained stuck. He stared up at the moonless sky, the cries of the wounded and dying an oppressive reminder of his fate. A numbing coldness crept over his body, a precursor of death. An icy Channel wind swept across the hill, its keening sound mingling with the groans of his comrades.

He prayed for death and prayed, too, for his country. To think England had come to this! Surely if there was a God, he would have granted victory to the English, not these Norman pigs!

"Linette,” he whispered. He saw her in his mind's eye, beautiful, lovely Linette with her long blonde hair and blue eyes shining with love. Death would soon separate them.

God, he was tired. The battlefield blurred before his eyes, and screams receded into nothingness. Not long now, then--

"Galan! Didn't you hear me calling you?”  A black-robed man crouched beside him, the stench of a dead animal lingering about him. Long, bushy gray hair fell past his shoulders, and a hooked nose jutted out from his withered face. Evil radiated from penetrating black eyes.

A pendant dangled from his neck, flickering with red and gold lights that made Galan blink.

"How . . . how do you know my name?” the soldier gasped.

The robed man grinned, a feral stretching of his lips.” I know many things. Now I want you to come with me.”

Galan raised a bloody hand and pointed to the arrow that skewered his belly.” I can't move,” he croaked.

"You can do anything you want.” The stranger sneered.” You think your God can perform miracles, but my powers are far greater. Why, I can draw lightning from the sky.” He raised a hand upward, extending long, bony fingers, his robe slipping back to reveal an emaciated arm. A bolt of lightning flashed across the black sky, followed within seconds by a thunderclap.

Galan jerked with shock.” By St. Aidan!” He strained to cross himself, the movement intensifying his agony.” Are you a warlock?” 

"More than that,” he said with another bestial grin.” So much more.” He placed his hand on Galan's stomach and painlessly drew the shaft out.

"How did you do that?” He rose up on his elbows, amazed that the pain was gone, the bleeding stopped, his woolen tunic no longer drenched with blood.

"Didn't I just speak of my powers? Now come with me.”

Although thankful for his deliverance, Galan hesitated.” But . . . who are you?” 

"Call me Moloch.” He stood, his robe billowing about him, his dark gaze focused on Galan.

Bracing himself on the hard, cold ground, he rose on unsteady legs, scarcely believing his recovery. How had Moloch performed such a miracle? Did he intend to send him home to Linette and his family? Or did he have a darker purpose?

"Wh--what do you want of me?” Galan asked, fearful of the penalty he must pay for his salvation.” And where are we going?” 

Moloch gathered his robe closer about him.” You'll learn soon enough.”

Chapter One

Present day

Galan lurked in the shadows, a solitary figure intent on finding his prey. Hunger raged inside him, a fiery, agonizing torment. In silence, he bided his time, certain his perseverance would find its reward.

He cursed the darkness, hating what he'd become.

Wishing he were mortal again. 

* * * 

After a long and busy day, Stephanie Novak locked the door of The Bookworm's Delight in downtown Miami and headed for the bus stop. A cool November breeze blew across the deserted streets, making her shiver. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and dark clouds hid the moon. She should have left earlier, but she'd stayed late to stock new inventory and lock up.

As she hurried along, her gaze covered both sides of the street, where the lights of cheap electronic and sporting goods stores glowed behind their barred windows. She didn't like being downtown so late, walking the empty streets, never knowing who or what might be prowling these same avenues, but--

A man sprang out from behind a dumpster.” Hold it there, lady.” He held a gun, leveled at her heart. Young and sloppy with clumps of stringy hair hanging past his shoulders, he reeked of alcohol.

Chills raced across her arms and legs. Her mouth went as dry as the Sahara at high noon, but she would not reveal her fright.

The mugger pointed to her wrist.” I like your Rolex. Hand it over.”

She took a deep breath.” It's a Seiko, but you can have it,” she said as she undid the clasp.” Whatever. Gimme your purse, too.”

A quick movement out of the corner of her eye jerked Stephanie's attention from the mugger. A flash of white and black dashed in her direction.

In a split second, the gun flew out of the man's hand and slid across the sidewalk, clattering onto the street. The thief stared at his hand, then at the pistol lying on the street, like a discarded toy.” Wh--what?”

The tall stranger in a white long-sleeved shirt and black pants darted behind the man and whacked him at the base of his neck.

"Ahhh.” The jerk crumpled to the ground with a thud.

"Thank--"Her gaze switched to the criminal, a chill racing along her spine.” You killed him!” 

Copyright (C) 2012 Shirley Martin

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